This Too Shall Pass
by Ellethmil
Summary: *Slash* Aragorn and Legolas begin the journey to destroy the one ring as brothers-in-arms. But with danger at every turn, they soon discover what it is neither can survive without. Not as sappy as I make it sound :D Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello! This is a story I've had in my head for a long while, and I hope you find it to your liking. Of course, if you do not approve of any type of romance between Aragorn and Legolas, then I can tell you now this story is not for you, and save you some trouble. I intend no disrespect to Tolkein and the world he created, and nothing belongs to me except my imagination. All reviews are welcome!

Ch. 1

"We will go through the mines."

The words made Legolas feel colder than the snow around his body ever could. He had heard tales of the mines of Moria, of the evil that had been awakened in the dark there. They were not like the caves of his homeland; open and inviting, with light breezes and warm fires. Nay; Moria would hold no comfort for the Fellowship, Legolas knew, nor would he find peace while they traveled there. Even now he could not keep himself from feeling trapped…with dark walls growing ever closer to him…suffocating him…

No, Legolas thought, shaking his head slightly to keep the dangerous thoughts from breaking his resolve. He was a warrior and a prince of Mirkwood; such weakness did not become him. He knew the quest would take him on dark paths, and it was his job to keep watch over his companions. Legolas knew he could not allow the others to see him unnerved at the very thought of the mines. He simply needed to keep his emotions in check and his face passive, as always.

This plan would have worked perfectly for the Elf Prince, if not for Aragorn. The moment the Ringbearer announced their path, the ranger looked to his friend. He saw the momentary fear flash in Legolas' eyes, before it was subdued with a shake of the golden head. Aragorn knew Legolas held no love for the dark places of the world, and though the elf would never admit to it, he would need help in the coming days. The two had been friends for longer than the lives of most men, yet Legolas was still a mystery to Aragorn. He would gladly spend his days singing under the trees of Mirkwood, yet, when the need arose, he was able to battle fiercely for hours without faltering. Aragorn tried to tell himself, not for the first time, that his interest in the golden elf was purely curiosity. He simply wanted to know what thoughts lay behind the bright eyes of his friend, nothing more.

As Aragorn allowed his thoughts to wander, the Fellowship turned and began the long journey back down the snowy mountain and toward Moria. Each member of the strange group walked with heavy hearts and clouded minds, all preoccupied with their own thoughts. All except Gimli, whose mind was filled with memories of his cousin and the fellow dwarves who would welcome them under the mountain.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Contrary to Gimli's thoughts, there was no dwarfish hospitality to be found in Moria. Legolas could feel death as he stood watching over the company outside the door. This odd feeling was effectively distracted by the Fellowship. The hobbits were throwing stones into the water, until Aragorn sensed the danger that could result in their fun. Both the ranger and the elf felt more than saw the creature beneath the surface, angered by the very presence of the companions. The two exchanged a quick glance before herding the Halflings toward the great stone door, which had just begun to open at Gandalf's command. The next few moments were a blur as the creature attacked. For Legolas, the fight was merely a distraction from the endless dark they would face. The Watcher was brought down easily enough, between the archer and the two men, and any fear that was felt in the water increased tenfold as they ran into the cave, the entrance collapsing behind them.

Legolas did not realize he was grasping Aragorn's shoulders until Gandalf lit his staff. He was unnerved, not only because of his action, but also for the relative amount of calm it afforded him. The light was admittedly more soothing to the woodelf, and so Legolas released his hold on the ranger to follow closely behind the Istari. He had not anticipated this; the mines made him feel trapped before he entered them, he did not need to know there was no way out for several days. As he fell in line with the others behind the light, Legolas forced himself to simply focus on his breathing and their surroundings, effectively quelling the fear that threatened beneath the surface. This didn't keep him from berating himself silently, though. He hadn't been in the mines for five minutes, and already he was clutching to Aragorn as a child would to its mother. Legolas knew he would need to control himself even more than he usually did underground, where his feelings were more likely to go unchecked.

Even know, the Elvish Prince could not keep his thoughts from wandering, as they so often did, to the dark haired ranger. It had been years since Legolas had thought of Aragorn as simply a friend, yet he knew that this was something the man could never become aware of. Aragorn's life would be difficult enough in the times to come. What he needed was a friend, a companion that he could rely on in hard times, and Legolas was willing to play that role in the man's life. The ranger's heart belonged to Arwen, whose beauty was unmatched, and who would be able to produce an heir for the king. Legolas had long known and come to terms with this truth, but it didn't make things any easier when he was around the man. Especially now, as they traveled together on this quest, as they slept side-by-side at night, facing danger and death each day. But he would not falter, Legolas told himself; he would not ruin the bond they shared already by making his feelings known. Besides, he added to himself, the darkness of Moria would be more than enough to preoccupy his aching heart.


	2. Chapter 2

-1Ch. 2

The next few days proved to be the worst in the elf's long life. The gloom had even begun to effect the hobbits, whose playful banter had been reduced to occasional sarcastic remarks. Luckily, the group encountered nothing as they made their way along the winding underground paths, with Gandalf guiding them at all times. Aragorn had stayed at the back of the company, where he was able to keep an eye on the rest. He knew Legolas hadn't slept since their arrival in Moria, which only bothered him half as much as the fact that the elf's weariness was showing. Elves needed very little sleep to begin with, and under normal conditions the two sleepless nights would have had no effect on the resilient archer. But Aragorn feared there was more wearing the elf's resolve. Legolas had never been away from the sun and the forests for this long; he had always been connected to nature and living things in some way his entire life. It was like oxygen to the Sindar; it was where he found his strength and peace of mind, and now it was gone. Aragorn wasn't sure how this separation would play out, but he was certain that his focus would remain on his friend until they were out of this tomb.

Normally, Legolas would notice being watched. Normally, he would even know if the watcher was friend or foe. But after three days underground, the elf hardly knew if they walked uphill or down. The intense silence of the stone around him was deafening, and the dark was so thick not even his Elvin eyes could penetrate more than a few yards in any direction. Gandalf's light was his salvation and his sanity, giving him something to focus on, something to follow, when all he wanted was to run, to bolt in any direction and keep going until he felt fresh air on his face. He didn't even have a sense time; they could have been walking for weeks already, and he would not know it. Yet every time Gandalf called them to a halt for a few hours of sleep, it seemed too soon, the pace was too slow. There was no peace to be found in Moria, and so even the idea of sleep seemed foreign to Legolas. He would take watch, though the elf knew that his mind was too scattered and preoccupied to notice any threat that may arise. A small part of him wished for a disturbance; perhaps a troop of goblins or a few orcs…anything to distract him from the gloom.

The third night, as Legolas sat overlooking the sleeping hobbits, Aragorn came to sit with him. The elf, so absorbed in his own thoughts, was startled by the presence of the man beside him. He tried to recover his obvious surprise by whispering, "I thought you would be asleep with the rest of the company, Aragorn."

"And yet you would know I have been awake for the past several hours if you were well, Legolas," Aragorn replied with evident concern. After a moment of hesitant silence, he continued; "Will you not speak to me mellon nin? I know the darkness of the mines weighs heavily on your spirit. Perhaps it will be more bearable if you talk to me."

Legolas sighed, trying to keep his face void of emotion as he spoke. "I will not deny that the mines are unpleasant, Aragorn, yet it is not unbearable. You need not worry for me, I will be fine."

It did not escape Aragorn's notice that the elf averted his eyes as he spoke, something he only did when he lied. Yet it didn't seem wise to press the matter. Legolas knew he was there to help, and he could do no more until the stubborn immortal was willing to talk. Aragorn nodded in consent to the archer, and allowed a companionable silence to fall over them. Legolas could not deny that he felt better with the ranger at his side, and though he was still tense and alert, his mind was able to relax somewhat.

The next day went by in much the same way as the others. The Fellowship traveled through the darkness, pausing occasionally for a short break of water and dried meats before continuing on their path. It would only be a few hours until they would stop for the night, though none could tell if it was truly night in the perpetual dark, when the group came upon a fork in the path. Gandalf could not remember which of the three halls would lead them to their destination, and so the nine were forced to sit and wait for the Istari's memory to return. This, for Legolas, was more maddening than another full day of walking through the dark tunnels. They should be moving, Gandalf should remember this, they may have been lost for days and not known. It was almost too much, and so, instead of screaming his frustration to the lifeless stone, Legolas paced. For over an hour he simply walked around and around the others, never stopping nor glancing at anything but the ground before him. Finally, Gimli stood in his path, making the elf jump as he noticed the obstacle and stopped just in time to keep from falling over the dwarf.

"That's enough elf! Yeh've practically carved a path through the stone with all yer circles, and it's right unsettling… makes the hobbits nervous, it does," Gimli muttered softly.

Legolas was thankful that he kept his voice down so the others wouldn't hear, but he wasn't sure if he'd be able to simply sit and wait in the oppressive shadows like the others. The look on the dwarfs face, however, broached no argument, and so Legolas moved to stand behind the hobbits. Merry and Pippin's comical arguments only sustained him for a few minutes before his ears once again filled with the roar of the mine. It took all the elf's willpower not to clamp his hands over his ears as he desperately wanted to. Instead, Legolas settled for closing his eyes and humming quietly to himself. He hummed the songs he used to sing under the trees of Mirkwood, the tunes he learned from his mother as a child, and the melodies the forest would sing to him as he lay in their branches under the stars. It was then that Legolas noticed Aragorn was beside him again, this time with his hand resting on the elf's shoulder. Legolas berated himself mentally; this was the second time he had failed to notice the man's presence, only now it was worse. Had he been so distracted that he had not felt the human's touch? What if it had been an enemy? He would be dead without ever realizing the danger. He must suppress this fear, before he, or worse, one of his friends, was hurt. Legolas made sure his face showed no emotion when he turned his head to look into Aragorn's anxious face.

"Gandalf has remembered the way. Come, we are moving on." This time Legolas could not keep the shocked look from his eyes. The rest of the Fellowship was standing, gathering their things, and moving once again toward the light on Gandalf's staff, yet he had not even noticed. Aragorn gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before moving to join the others. They traveled in silence for the next few hours, before the tired yawns of the hobbits broke the deafening quiet and marked the end of their day. Once again, Legolas found himself awake, watching the others slumber in peace. They were hardly affected by the suffocating closeness of Moria, able to sleep and therefore dream of places outside of this dark. It was not until a drop of liquid hit the archer's hand that Legolas realized he was crying. The tears had come without warning, and he found himself unable to stop them. It was infuriating; Legolas had shown excellent control of his emotions, always able to push down fear or pain or even love, so that nothing showed on his face but calm. But this place, this overwhelming darkness, was beyond his control. If not for the innocent hobbits, who relied so heavily upon his skill and trusted so deeply in his ability, he would already be running down the path. Legolas didn't know how much longer he would last in Moria, with nothing but black emptiness. He wiped angrily at his face, feeling ashamed at the trails flowing down his cheeks. He was a prince and a warrior, such weakness was below him. All he wanted was to be held, to be told that it would be alright, that someone would take care of him, and this too brought a feeling of shame. He would not let Moria defeat his resolve, especially with his feelings for Aragorn. He would not run to the man like a child after a terrifying dream; he would remain strong.

Finally, after several more minutes of stubborn tears, Legolas was able to control himself again. His hands still trembled slightly, and his breath still came in unsteady bursts, but the weeping had stopped. It was then that Aragorn awoke and looked across the makeshift camp at the elf. He looked beautiful; even in the dark his eyes glistened with freshly shed tears. His face was flushed and troubled, and he trembled ever so slightly. Aragorn had never seen Legolas vulnerable, it was one of the things that frustrated the man. Legolas kept everything inside, and kept people at a distance. No one was closer to the archer than Aragorn, yet he wanted to know Legolas so much more than he did. Even seeing the immortal now, with fear evident in his face and sorrow almost tangible about him, was a vast improvement to the cool aloofness Legolas usually presented.

Yet Aragorn was torn; he wanted to speak with his friend again, force him to release the burden of fear that he tried to hide, but he didn't know if he could trust himself. He wanted to be close to this elf, comfort him and… he simply didn't know if he would scare Legolas off for good when the elf needed a friend the most. Aragorn couldn't believe himself; what Legolas needed was a friend, someone he could trust to help him without any pressure, not a lusty man looking to take advantage while his defenses were down! Feeling ashamed of his thoughts, Aragorn sat up and made his way over to the troubled elf, determined to comfort his friend, as a friend. Anything beyond that would have to wait, if it were ever to come at all.

This time, Legolas was well aware of the approach of the human, giving him time to clasp his hands together and steady his breathing as much as possible, though he had a feeling it was too late for such things. Unlike before, Aragorn simply sat next to the golden elf, without asking any questions or pressing for any information. If anything, this was worse for Legolas. He knew he could trust the man, he had for decades, yet there had never been a situation where he needed to open up to Aragorn. It had always been the ranger who had something to get off his chest, who sought advice and needed a kind word. Legolas was the one who remained calm and composed, who leant a shoulder and an ear to his friend's problems, and the elf didn't know if he could accept this sudden reversal of roles. Especially now, when Aragorn so clearly had his own problems to deal with; the ring, the growing threat of Mordor, his love for Arwen, and his destiny to take the throne of men. Legolas' problems simply didn't compare, and he had no right to push another burden on the already struggling man.

Legolas continued to fight with himself in his mind, while Aragorn watched in silence. The man could see the indecision in his friends cerulean eyes, and he mentally urged Legolas to put aside his pride for a time in order to find healing. Finally, it seemed the elf had made up his mind. Casting his eyes off to the distance, Legolas whispered in Elvish, "This place strikes a fear in me that I have never before experienced… a fear that grows with each moment, threatening to overwhelm me at any time."

Anyone who may have heard the prince's words without understanding his natural tongue would have been convinced he was speaking of the weather. He sat with his legs crossed and his back straight, looking away in a nonchalant manner that indicated detachment. None of this fooled Aragorn, who could sense the slight tremors in the elven body, as well as the tremendous effort Legolas was putting into keeping his voice casual. The man shook his head at his stubborn friend before drawing the immortal to him with an arm around Legolas' shoulders. All resolve in the archer melted at this sudden act of compassion. He sank into the warm body next to him and allowed the tears to flow anew. Aragorn was momentarily stunned by the sudden change in Legolas; he was not expecting the task to be so easy. He recovered quickly, though, and began to speak soothing words to Legolas as he held the elf to him protectively. It was several minutes before the quiet sobs slowed to silence, yet Legolas showed no signs of letting go of the man next to him. His mind was blissfully blank for the first time in days, all he could hear was his own uneven breathing and Aragorn's voice, while the man's unique scent, a mix of pipeweed and pine, filled his senses.

Although this was the exact opposite of what Legolas told himself he would do, the elf could no more change his actions than he could illuminate the mines. He didn't regret it either; telling Aragorn the truth made him feel better than he had since entering Moria, and there was no denying the comfort that came from being close to the man. Without even realizing it, the elf slipped into the unconscious realm of dreams. Aragorn knew it as soon as Legolas was asleep, for his body relaxed more completely than it had been in days. He was glad for his friend; the rest would do him good in mind and body, perhaps enough to get him through the wretched mines. The ranger adjusted the slender body of the elf in his arms before closing his own eyes and resting his cheek against the top of the golden head, settling in for a few hours of rest. Despite his earlier admonishment at himself, Aragorn began to think how perfect Legolas felt curled into him, and how well they fit together, as if they were two halves of the same whole. Aragorn felt no shame in these thoughts, as he did before. Nothing could ruin this feeling for the man; it was too right to be wrong. Aragorn was sure that he could be content for eternity in that moment, breathing the sweet smell of a forest after a rainstorm that was purely Legolas.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hello, hello! Here is some more of everyone's favorite elf and ranger! Again, nothing is mine, and reviews are always helpful…

Ch. 3

After sitting in contentment for a few hours, Aragorn knew it was time to wake the others and continue on what was probably their last day of travel in the mines of Moria. He allowed himself another minute with Legolas, appreciating the warmth of the elf's body where it lay against him, before smiling to himself and placing a gentle kiss on the smooth skin of Legolas' forehead. It was more than he ever thought the two would share, yet Aragorn knew it would never be enough. He needed to control his impulses before they got him in trouble. Still, the man was unable to stop his hand from brushing a stray lock of hair away from his companion's face. He roused the elf slowly, calling his name softly until Legolas' eyes came back into focus and he pulled away from Aragorn, missing the man's look of disappointment only because he shyly turned his head away. Legolas had awoken once in the few hours they had slept together. It took him a moment to remember why he was so close to the ranger, and somehow Legolas was not disturbed at all by what had happened. True, he felt weak for crying so easily, but not once did Aragorn judge him, and for that Legolas was eternally grateful. Then, to awake to the feeling of being held by someone warm and strong, was enough to bring Legolas back to his state of reverie without ever thinking of his surroundings. This time, however, Legolas knew that Aragorn was awake and watching him. He could not let his feelings show through, lest the man notice and be lost to him forever.

Aragorn decided not to say anything about the elf's sudden coldness toward him. Instead, he went about waking the others and preparing them for the last leg of their journey. Legolas took a few moments to calm himself after Aragorn left the spot they had slept in. He was unnerved by how quickly the darkness took hold of him with the absence of the man. Everything he had felt before returned, only now it seemed stronger than ever, as if the black was a living thing; clawing at him, covering his body and choking out his light. Legolas wanted nothing more than to go back to the warm embrace of the ranger, but he knew Aragorn had been hurt by his rudeness, and rightly so. '_Fool_,' Legolas thought, '_must you always push away those who seek to help you?'_

Little did the elf know that Aragorn's thoughts mirrored his own, and continued to fill the ranger's mind as the Fellowship sent off for their last day in Moria, a fact that Merry and Pippin frequently reminded them of. Everyone, with the exception of the Elf and Man, seemed reasonably cheerful as they traveled; the dark mines had worn them all down, and none would miss them when they were gone. Even Gimli was eager to be out of the place, for though he found comfort in the deep places of Middle Earth, this mine had gone from a second home to a family tomb. Many of the skeletons they had passed in the dark belonged to his kin, and perhaps Balin himself. '_Yes_,' Gimli thought, '_I will be glad to leave this place of misery and death, for the cold here chills more than my body, but my very spirit._' He was so distracted by thoughts of his cousin and the dwarf bones laying on the stone floors that he walked directly into Legolas, who had stopped short in front of him.

"Oof! Blast it Elf! A little warning wouldn't go amiss, we can't all have the grace and swift reflexes of your kind! What is the point of-" Gimli's tirade was cut short when he realized that it wasn't Legolas alone who had stopped, but the entire Fellowship. Before the group was, apparently, a massive stone wall. The only break in the endless rock was a small crevice directly in front of Gandalf, who was examining its entrance closely.

"It will be a tight fit for some, but this is the only tunnel to the other side, and it is a secure passage. Follow closely, and keep my light in your vision at all times," Gandalf commanded before bending nearly double and entering the tight space. The hobbits followed easily behind him, having no trouble entering the crevice. Boromir had a difficult time, being a fairly brawny man, and not marking flexibility amongst his talents. Gimli needed to assist the Gondorian with his shield, which became caught on the rock outside the entrance, effectively trapping the man from moving in either direction. The dwarf followed the newly freed man, chuckling at the human's ungainliness underground.

Legolas had heard Gandalf's words to follow closely, yet all he could see was the tiny dark hole and the roar of tightly compacted air and suffocating darkness. There was nothing he could do; his mind was unable to command his legs to move, or to do anything else. The elf simply stood at the mouth of the tunnel, staring at the dark and forcing his lungs and heart to continue their duties. After what he thought was months and years, he felt something unexpected: a hand holding his. It was a hand he had seen slay a thousand orcs, climb a hundred trees, and calm frantic horses, as well as a few elves. Legolas could feel the strength in Aragorn's hand; rough from fighting yet mysteriously soft and warm. It gave him an anchor, something to pull him back from the endless void that sought to claim his mind. Legolas felt the ranger move forward, still holding tightly to his hand so that the elf was forced to take a step or lose contact with the man. He took that step, then another and another until the wall loomed directly in front of his deathly pale face. At this point the elf found he could not continue forward, his eyes seeking Aragorn's for help. The man was crouched down, still holding Legolas' slender hand in his own and waiting patiently for the immortal to follow him.

"I cannot," Legolas whispered, knowing the request in Aragorn's eyes. For a moment it seemed the ranger had not heard him, for he made no sound and stayed perfectly still.

Then, releasing a heavy sigh, Aragorn straightened up until the two were facing one another. He was shorter, but not by much, and Legolas found that he was unable to break eye contact with the man. After several long moments of this, Aragorn sighed again and, taking the elf's other hand in his, he asked, "Do you trust me Legolas?"

Without a moment's thought, Legolas nodded, "Yes."

"Then close your eyes, and follow me," the man said softly, but with enough authority that Legolas allowed his lids to close. He felt Aragorn move once again, crouching down to fit into the tunnel. This time, Legolas was able to follow suit, focusing solely on the feel of their hands, warm and strong, feeling oddly natural together. He continued to move through the fissure at Aragorn's direction, finding it relatively easy to move over the rough path with Aragorn to steady him where necessary. It was not long, however, before Legolas began to feel the closeness of the rock, just above his head and mere inches away on either side of his body. It was not yet unbearable, and he continued to follow Aragorn's lead, listening to his voice as a source of comfort. Then even that lost its power.

"Legolas, do not open your eyes or allow yourself to panic in any way, but I need to let go of your hands to get a better idea of the path ahead. Do not move, I will be back in a moment."

Before Legolas could say anything to protest, the contact was gone and the only sound was Aragorn's footsteps shuffling away. The elf tried to quiet his beating heart and still his shaking limbs, but he no longer controlled either. Aragorn had only been gone for a few seconds, but Legolas could not stand the feeling of helplessness that overtook him; he opened his eyes. For a moment, it seemed that the elf could not control even this part of his body, but then he realized that his eyes were, in fact, open. The darkness was just so thick and so deep that there was no difference. Soon, however, Legolas could make out the outline of the rock, and the shape of his feet upon the stone path. But he could not see Aragorn and all that lay ahead of him was darkness. Taking a few steps forward, Legolas realized that the darkness was unlike that of the space around him, but solid. Feeling forward with his hands, the elf came into contact with rock, blocking the tunnel and increasing his fear tenfold. Then, Aragorn's head appeared not a foot above the ground, causing Legolas to jump and crack his head on the rock above.

"Legolas!" Aragorn cried, crawling out of the crevice and examining the dazed elf, "why did you open your eyes? I said I would come back!"

"I could not stand helpless in the dark, Aragorn. I needed to know what made you sound so worried," Legolas replied, wincing as the man examined his tender head.

Aragorn understood this only too well; no warrior would be able to stand idly by like a child, and he should have known Legolas would be no different.

"I am sorry, my friend, I should not have left you. But I must be honest, we have a problem. The tunnel has collapsed in part, leaving only a very tight space to the other side. We can get through, but we must crawl. It is but a short stretch, and the tunnel widens on the other side," on hearing no response from the elf, Aragorn continued, "Legolas? I will be right in front of you. Nothing will go wrong mellon nin, I promise." (my friend)

"No," Legolas said, more to himself than to Aragorn, "no, there must be another way. You go ahead, Aragorn, and tell the others I will find another path through the mines. I cannot… the walls already press upon me, there is hardly any air… no, I will find another way." The elf made to turn and make his way back to the entrance of the crevice before Aragorn took hold of his arm, pulling him back.

"Don't be a fool Legolas! You will become lost in this place, and even if you do find another path, it will be days before you reach the other side! It would drive you mad, assuming you don't die, and I cannot allow either to happen to you. You will follow me through this place, or I will follow you back through those wretched mines. Personally, I find the former more appealing, but it is your choice."

"Aragorn, this is not the time to jest. You will not follow me back."

"Then we go forward. Come, Legolas, it is not far to the outside."

Instead of answering, Legolas attempted to wretch free of the man's grasp. But the combination of being apart from light and fresh air for so long, as well as his lack of sleep and overwhelming anxiety, had taken a toll on the elf's strength. He struggled for a short time before collapsing to the stone floor, fear and frustration making him tremble. He struggled to breathe, the claustrophobia of the place finally affecting his body. Aragorn was at his side in an instant, rubbing the elf's back and encouraging the gasping immortal to take deep breaths. It was some time before this was possible, and even then Legolas shook like a leaf. Aragorn's heart broke at the sight; the elf was one of the strongest beings he knew. No member of the fair race would be able to endure this darkness, and Legolas was connected to the forest on a far deeper level than most of his kind. He held the archer close to him, humming a soothing tune in an attempt to calm him. It seemed to work, for it was not long after that Legolas sat up, a look of determination mingling with the fear and anxiety in his gaze.

"Ready?" Aragorn asked, unwilling to push the elf into something. If he panicked in the tight space, there would be nothing Aragorn could do to help.

Legolas nodded slightly, forcing the tremor out of his voice long enough to say, "I trust you, Aragorn."

The man's heart soared at the words, though he knew they were meant in friendship. He didn't bother keeping the grin from his face, for he knew the darkness would help his secret in this matter.

"Then let us not tarry any longer. I will go first, but stay close behind me, it is not far to the other side," Aragorn said with as much hope as he could put in his voice.


	4. Chapter 4

Ch. 4

Aragorn dared not look at Legolas, fearing that if he allowed another moment to pass, either the elf would bolt or he would do something rash. Lowering himself on all fours, the ranger began crawling into the crevice before him. Aragorn had given up trying to hide his feelings from himself. He knew, now more than ever, that Legolas meant more to him than any fellow warrior or travel companion could. The archer was more than beautiful; he was a light to Aragorn. The man continued to move through the darkness, occasionally feeling the stone brush against his back or snag at his hair, and making no attempt to stem the flow of thoughts in his head.

One thing he knew for certain; Legolas could never know. Aragorn knew that elves took lovers of both genders, and Legolas himself had probably been with another male at one time or another, but a human? It was insulting to even think about. Not to mention Arwen; she was the Evenstar of her people, and she loved him. He should think about her, not Legolas, and certainly not now, not during the Quest. He was greedy and lustful, and he knew it. Allowing Arwen to give up her immortality was burden enough, he could not possibly ask it of another elf.

The thought stopped Aragorn dead: surely he had not imagined Legolas binding with him? It was simple lust for a creature whose beauty was unmatched, who was both graceful and deadly and everything Aragorn could wish for… but not love, and certainly not of the kind that would join their souls. It was ridiculous to even think it, and Aragorn was more than a little disconcerted that the thought had so abruptly come into his head.

"Aragorn? Why have we stopped?" Legolas asked, the worry evident in his voice. Aragorn shook his head, mentally berating himself for his selfish thoughts, and the fear he needlessly caused Legolas. Not knowing what to say for himself, he muttered an apology before moving forward once more. It was only another minute before Aragorn was through the small tunnel and standing once more. He helped Legolas rise, giving the elf's shoulder a reassuring squeeze when he was upright again. The archer took a deep breath, filling his lungs with air that wasn't stale with age and reaching his arms above his head, reveling in the feeling of a fairly open space. The two continued on, faster now, in order to catch up to the Fellowship ahead of them.

As they walked, Legolas watched Aragorn's silhouette against the darkness around them. In the tunnel he had stopped suddenly, and though Legolas could not see the man he knew to stop from the lack of noise ahead. Immediately, panic had seized the elf, making the walls feel crushingly close. But then he noticed that Aragorn was silent; surely if there was a problem he would be informed by his friend. In fact, Aragorn seemed completely absorbed into his thoughts. Legolas could sense that the man was paying no heed to his surroundings, but that something was bothering him immensely. After another moment of the ranger's puzzling silence, Legolas had dared to speak his name. That had snapped Aragorn out of it, yet even as they walked through the caves he seemed strangely distant. It bothered Legolas to see the man thus; this was not the time to lose focus. He couldn't imagine what could be so distracting, and so Legolas settled for walking behind his companion and keeping a close eye on him.

It was not long before Legolas could hear the footsteps of the Fellowship ahead, but the sound did not bring him the joy he thought it would. He enjoyed walking alone with Aragorn, though he would never let the man know this. It was oddly peaceful, so much so that Legolas hardly felt the pressing darkness around him. It simply didn't make sense to the elf; the attraction he felt for the man clearly went beyond the physical, but when had that changed? Had it even begun as physical attraction, or was it something else about Aragorn that had originally drawn him in? He wasn't sure, and he certainly wasn't going to examine his feelings further; it was hard enough to keep them in check as it was. Even so, he realized, Aragorn had done so much for him in Moria; more than he ever would have asked of the man. It was thanks to Aragorn that he was sane, that he was even here now, and he did everything without being asked, without expecting gratitude.

"Aragorn…" Legolas began, grasping the man's arm in order to halt their progress. He wanted to thank the ranger, to explain to him how grateful he was, and to apologize for being so stubborn when he needed help. But the words would not come; Aragorn stood before him, a mix of curiosity and concern on his face as he waited for the elf to continue, yet Legolas felt that anything he could say would simply not be enough. Instead, the archer gave Aragorn a small, heartfelt smile before reaching up and wrapping his arms around the man, holding him close and trying to express his thanks.

It took Aragorn a moment to respond; the smile alone had caught him off guard, he had thought that perhaps something was wrong. Then to have Legolas hug him, even as a show of gratitude, was more wonderful than anything he had experienced before. The man brought his arms around the slender body before him, drawing the elf closer while burying his head in the golden hair around Legolas' shoulders. As neither man nor elf had any desire to let go, they remained in the tight embrace for several long moments. It was only the sound of approaching footsteps that shook Legolas out of his reverie long enough to back away from the warmth of Aragorn's body. He wished he could catch a glimpse of Aragorn's face, but the man had turned his head toward the nearing figure, effectively hiding his face with his dark hair. Perhaps it was just Legolas' mind playing tricks on him, but that did not seem like a brotherly embrace. In fact, Aragorn seemed extremely comfortable with the closeness between them, especially in the last few days.

The elf's thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of a glowing light, which turned out to be Gimli, who seemed none too pleased to be looking for the missing companions. He stopped before the pair, holding a torch above his head, and looked from one to the other with a puzzled expression on his bearded face.

"If you two're finished with yer stroll, the rest've us'd like to get on our way," was all the dwarf said before turning back around and disappearing around a bend in the tunnel, muttering about the shortcomings of both men and elves as he went.

Aragorn shot Legolas an amused grin before following Gimli on the path to the Fellowship. Legolas followed behind him, taking a deep breath to calm his unusually jumpy nerves. Something as simple as a smile from the man made him feel as if he were an elfling again; it was both refreshing and unsettling. Once the three companions had reached the remainder of their group, Gandalf began to lead the way through the ever-widening chamber. Legolas, deciding to distance himself from Aragorn for a time, made his way to the front, walking just behind Gandalf. It wasn't long before he noticed the strange smile on the Istari's face. In fact, the wizard seemed extremely amused about something, and Legolas wanted to know what.

Before the question reached his lips, however, Gandalf quietly said, "I see you have overcome your fear of this place, Prince of Mirkwood. An interesting choice of method, I must say, but clearly effective. Yes, quite effective indeed."

Legolas was completely taken aback by the Istari's words. How did he know what had happened? And what did he mean by his words? Surely the wizard knew nothing of his feelings… but why else would he say it like _that_? Gandalf chuckled lightly to himself at the distress clearly written on the elf's features. Legolas was undoubtedly good at hiding his emotions from the world, but very few creatures on Middle Earth possessed the ability to hide the truth from Gandalf. Yet, the old wizard knew it was not the time for such talk, and allowed silence to lapse over the Fellowship once again. Legolas' mind was a whirlwind of activity, however, and he could not focus on anything else. Gandalf's words played themselves repeatedly in his mind, sometimes sounding like an accusation, sometimes an encouraging statement, but most often a gentle admonishment. It made him feel weak; Aragorn was just a man, if anything happened between them it would not be the fault of the mortal. Men lust after beauty; they can act rashly and regret their action later. But he was an immortal; it was his job to keep such feelings from forming into something they would both regret. Surely, Gandalf was reminding him of this, of his duty to put his own feelings aside for the quest and, most importantly, Aragorn's destiny.

Legolas' mental tirade was cut short as the tunnel before them opened into the Great Hall of Kazadum. It was breathtaking; the giant cavern spread before them for what seemed like miles, with columns and arches reaching the gap from stone floor to magnificent ceilings. Finally, Legolas had a feeling of being in the open. In fact, this reminded him very much of the Mirkwood Palace.

"I see you finally approve, Master Elf." Gimli said, a smug look upon his face.

Legolas, deciding that it was no time to jest, honestly replied, "Indeed Master Dwarf. This is certainly a place of beauty."

The dwarf seemed pleased with this display of sincerity, clapping Legolas on the back with a powerful whack before moving ahead, giving the hobbits a lecture on the history of dwarves. The mood within the Fellowship was certainly lighter than it had been in days, and even Gandalf felt safe enough to allow for a good amount of light. As the group continued through the massive space, Aragorn allowed himself to fall into step with the elf who already seemed recovered from his ordeal in the dark.

"I am surprised at you Legolas, passing up an opportunity to ruffle Gimli's beard. Clearly you have gone mad from the long days underground."

Legolas, noting the playful tone in the man's voice, casually replied, "Nay, Aragorn, it is not the darkness that has driven me mad, it is the terrible odor of mortals who have gone too long without the luxury of a bath."

Aragorn, unable to contain his mirth, broke into a spurt of deep chuckling. This made him realize, more than anything, that Legolas was indeed healing from the emotional trauma of the mines. The two continued to walk in amiable silence, hearing Gimli's proud speech on the discovery of mithril in his own mines, and the curious questions of the hobbits. This light mood was soon broken as the Fellowship came upon the tomb of Gimli's kin, Balin, Lord of Moria. The dwarf's grief over this loss was tangible, and the account left behind of the final moments of his life were terrible to hear. Still, Legolas could sense that they were no longer safe, and that not another moment should be wasted in the mines. He told Aragorn as much, but the man's reply was cut short by Pippin's clumsiness. The crashing sound of the armored skeleton was enough to wake all of Middle Earth, and soon the evil host of Moria was upon them. Legolas was eager for the action; he had been idle too long underground. The troll posed the only challenge, but the elf found it an interesting opponent. It was slow and stupid, which was both a weakness and a strength, as it cared not who it killed, as long as it crushed something.

When it attacked Frodo, and then Aragorn, it was all Legolas could do to stay focused. Of all of them, they were the most important to the Quest, and to the elf. But Legolas was a warrior first, and so he forced himself to deal with the troll before looking to his fallen companions. Once the beast was taken care of, Legolas joined the group around Frodo, who was saved by the mithril coat he had hidden under his clothing. Legolas was relieved; as an elf he hardly ever faced the prospect of death. In fact, he had no memory of death at all. His mother had been killed by the orcs that invaded Northern Mirkwood, but he was so young at the time that he remembered nothing of the ordeal. In fact, Legolas was shocked to realize, Aragorn would be one of the first, if not the first, of his friends to pass on. It was not a realization Legolas was pleased to stumble upon, especially as he ran from the goblins that surrounded them. Any of his companions could face death at any time, even himself, but even if fate did not deal them an early death, Aragorn would still die, and soon, by an immortal's standards.

It was only when the Fellowship was completely surrounded by jeering goblins that Legolas' mind turned from these dark thoughts. If they were all killed now, this understanding would matter little. But then, almost as suddenly as the thousands of creatures appeared, they were gone, and replaced by something far worse. Running from the Balrog was like running from death itself. Legolas had heard tales of this beast; an evil twist of fire and shadow, hating anything living, anything that thrived in light and loved life. Aragorn, on the other hand, knew nothing of the creature, and could not understand why Gandalf insisted on running instead of fighting. Had he seen the fear in Legolas' eyes at the mention of the creature's name, he would have felt differently.

The companions ran to the stairs that would lead them to the bridge that assured their safety. Legolas thought nothing of the gap in the stone stairs, jumping to the other side with ease. Gimli had some trouble with the jump, and at any other time Legolas would have found the situation very amusing; saving the dwarf from death by pulling him up using his beard. But there were more important matters to attend to; such as Aragorn and Frodo, who were trapped on the now collapsing portion of stairs. Aragorn spared a moment to reflect on the less-than-perfect day he and Frodo were having, before realizing how to manipulate the fall of the stone toward the rest of the group. The two companions jumped as rock hit rock, and when Legolas caught Aragorn, it happened.

They locked eyes, for the briefest of moments, and both saw something surprising. Aragorn was shocked by the fear in Legolas' eyes; not for their situation, but for him. The blue orbs held a caring that went deeper than Aragorn would expect from a fellow warrior, and far more than Legolas would normally show. At the same time, Aragorn's stormy grey eyes held a feeling that Legolas could never claim to be lust, but he feared to call it love. All the same, Legolas had to admit that there was emotion there that was not rash or sudden, but refreshingly deep and not at all brotherly. Neither man nor elf had time to reflect on their individual realizations, and even if they could, neither were sure if they would be able to. They were almost across the bridge by now, Legolas hurrying the hobbits along while taking down as many goblin archers as he had arrows for, and Aragorn staying at the back, urging the others on. Then the Balrog appeared.

Dun, dun, dun! Nothing like life-threatening danger to bring out a little romance. I hope they aren't all killed by the Balrog. Oh wait... that would have made for a very short trilogy, and a pretty lame story. Anyways, thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

Hello! Thank you for your lovely reviews!! I've been somewhat stuck, and reviews definitely get me back on track. I haven't exactly planned this story out, so I'll probably just keep going until I can't possibly write any more. Hope you guys like long stories! I promise to keep it filled with fluff and smut so that it's worth reading (and writing!).

Ch. 5

It was altogether evil; everything about the creature of the deep mines told Legolas to get away, and fast. Its darkness actively pursued anything good, attempting to consume it completely. Even the hobbits felt this; they crowded together, hiding behind Legolas' body as if his light could shield them from the evil on the bridge. Only Frodo stepped forward, realizing what Gandalf was doing on the stone arch. Legolas, for his part, had complete confidence in the Istari's ability to overthrow the Balrog. To him, Gandalf was infallible, a constant source of good in Middle Earth.

When he fell, pulled down into the endless darkness by the monster, Legolas forgot how to breath, or think, or move. It was only when an arrow sliced by his head, grazing the smooth skin on his neck, that instinct forced him into action. Gimli and Boromir, who still carried Frodo, were already moving toward the doorway that led out of the mines. Legolas pushed the rest of the hobbits ahead of him, ensuring their safety before killing a final goblin and running himself. Once the entire Fellowship was out in the fresh air of the mountainside, the realization of Gandalf's death hit.

Every member of the company grieved differently, and Legolas watched each in turn. He had never known sorrow like this, nor was he sure how to express it. Many of the companions cried, some looked too shocked to do anything, and Aragorn… Aragorn looked unaffected. In fact, the man commanded him to get the company moving. Legolas, not knowing anything else to do, began to urge to hobbits to stand. They looked heartbroken, and it struck a strange note in the elf. Surely mortals must feel grief just as strongly as immortals, if not more. Why, then, did their grief not kill them? Surely if Legolas felt the loss of Gandalf as keenly as these small hobbits, he would be dead already of a broken heart.

It frustrated Legolas that this did not make sense to him; there was little the elf was unable to comprehend when he put his mind to it. This, combined with his fatigue and slight pain at his bleeding neck, soon became too much for him. As the group began to run toward the forest of Lothlorien, Legolas urged his mind to go blank. He did not wish to dwell on the loss of Gandalf, nor on the feelings he had for Aragorn, nor on anything else until he was safe in the land of his kin. Perhaps the presence of elves would sooth his conflicted soul and set his mind at ease for the first time since the Fellowship entered Moria.

Aragorn also attempted to keep anything from entering his mind except the image of the ground beneath his feet. With Gandalf gone, he would have to lead the Fellowship, making the decisions regarding their path and the risks the group would take. Risks that could, and probably would, lead to the death of more of his friends. If it came down to it, who would Aragorn let fall? The Hobbits? Gimli? Legolas? No, Aragorn could not imagine losing any of them; the elf least of all. They had shared something in the dark of Moria, and though Aragorn knew not what it meant or where it would lead them, he knew that he would gladly lay down his life for the archer. Yet the responsibility of leading the Fellowship was paired with his duty to Gondor, to his future as the King of Men. It was all too much for Aragorn, and so he pushed his feelings of grief and fear out of his mind, focusing only on getting the remaining companions to the safety of the forest. Once there, Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn would be able to guide them in their next move. They would know what to do, and Aragorn would take whatever council they could give him.

It was not yet nightfall when the weary group entered the trees that marked the border into the realm of Lorien. Legolas, for one, felt immense relief. If not for the somber mood of his companions, the elf would have been singing to the trees that welcomed him so warmly into their presence. It felt like waking from a long and terrible sleep; the air was fresh and crisp, the forest alive with creatures and growing things, all of whom called out to Legolas. Though his heart was weighed down with grief for Gandalf, his soul was soaring at the freedom it found outside Moria. Even traveling to the forest was more a relief than a taxing journey. To run freely, without stone and darkness to hold him back, had been a joy for Legolas. He felt immensely better than he had in days, though now, as the Fellowship walked carefully along the path, the sorrow of death began to press upon him. He could not even bring himself to patronize Gimli for telling the hobbits a foolish tale of an elf witch in the woods.

Yet Legolas was not so distracted that he was unaware of the many sets of eyes watching them walk. His bow was notched with one of his few remaining arrows in a flash, knowing it was futile even as he did it. The company was already surrounded by the Galadhrim, and Haldir was remarking on the dwarf's loudness when Legolas lowered his weapon. It had been centuries since Legolas had set foot in the Golden Wood, yet it had changed little. Unchanged, also, was the Marchwarden of the forest. He firmly refused to permit them entrance to the city, knowing full well the burden Frodo carried. Legolas and Aragorn knew that they had to convince the elf otherwise, for the Fellowship had nowhere else to turn.

"Haldir, I understand your priority is the safety of this forest, but you cannot turn us away. There is more at stake here than you realize," Legolas told him in Elvish, trying to convey the full weight of his words through his eyes. He had known Haldir a long time; long enough for the Lorien Elf to understand that Legolas was not one to reveal emotion unless it was of the utmost importance. Still, he had his doubts.

"I will not be swayed in this matter, Legolas. The evil your company carries has no place in the Golden Wood. You may rest here on the border until all are refreshed and healed, but then I must ask you to continue on your journey."

This was not good enough for Aragorn, who could barely keep an even tone as he spoke; "Will you not send word to the Lady of the Woods at the very least? We are not your enemies, Haldir, and we are in need of her council."

"Indeed, Estel, for if you were a foe we would have shot you down long before you ever set eyes on us," Haldir retorted. Though he respected the man greatly, Haldir had trouble understanding Aragorn's impatience and quick temper. Feeling the need to settle the situation somewhat, he added, "It is best to wait for now. Lady Galadriel was aware of your presence here as soon as you set foot in the forest. We will know soon whether or not she wishes for you to proceed. Until that time, Son of Arathorn, you can do nothing, and so I bid you rest."

This was not what Aragorn wanted to hear, which he made known immediately The air filled with the angry sounds of arguing, and Legolas could see how frightened the hobbits were becoming at their lack of understanding of the Elvish words. From their point of view, the conversation had become increasingly intense. Now Aragorn was yelling and waving his arms about, while Haldir stood his ground with a dangerously calm expression on his face. Anyone could see that the disagreement would lead nowhere, for neither man nor elf would readily back down. Legolas decided it was best to step between the two before something worse happened.

"Saes! Haldir, Aragorn, this bickering is not going to help anything! Haldir is right; we must take this opportunity to rest, for the road before us is long, and we carry many burdens. The Lady will send word soon; we must trust in her judgment. Come Aragorn, we should tell the others and ease their discomfort."

Without waiting for a reply, Legolas moved across the talan to sit with the hobbits and explain to them what happened. He was frustrated; Aragorn knew better than to lose his temper in front of the others, and to an important figure like Haldir, no less. The Fellowship was already indebted to the hospitality of the marchwarden. Legolas understood Haldir's thinking; protecting his homeland came before any ties of friendship. Legolas knew this well from his own duty to Mirkwood; any threat to the forest was to be kept out at all costs. Of course, he hoped the Lady would allow them entrance to the forest city, but Legolas could hold no grudge if they were told to move on. For the time being, Legolas settled for bandaging the cuts and bruises of the hobbits, as well as his own small wound.

Aragorn felt the same way as Legolas, despite his earlier anger. He harbored no ill feelings for the Galadhrim; in fact, he respected them immensely. It was just the prospect of being turned away that frightened the man into his earlier actions. He had no plan for the company and nowhere else for them to go. He needed Galadriel's wisdom and any strength the elves could give him. Anyone else in his position would act just as irritable and impatient… except perhaps Legolas. The elf was right to interrupt him, though the remarks still stung his pride. Legolas was many hundreds of years older than he, yet the archer rarely used this as a means to gain authority. In fact, in all the years the two had been friends, Aragorn never remembered feeling mortal, for lack of a better word, when he was with Legolas. The elf allowed him to lead without question, giving Aragorn the false idea that they were equal, that Legolas wasn't older, wiser, and stronger. The fact that Legolas used this against him now was more a mark of the immortal's stress than anything else, but Aragorn still felt like a child who had to be reprimanded by a parent.

Before Aragorn was able to brood further on this matter, Haldir approached him. The man stood quickly, intending to apologize to the elf for his rudeness. But before he could even open his mouth, Haldir cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"'Tis no matter, Estel. You were looking out for the well-being of your companions, as was I. Let us put it behind us, for word has arrived from the Lady Galadriel. She has granted your fellowship passage to the city, and wishes to speak to you all upon your arrival. Please make haste to gather the others; we leave shortly."

With that the Marchwarden turned and left to gather his own followers. Unnoticed by Aragorn, the elf could not keep a smile off his normally stoic face. Haldir simply could not understand mortals; one moment Estel was ready to do him physical harm, and the next he looked relieved enough to hug him. They were a strange race, men. Not to be trusted as a whole, yet still able to surprise even the oldest of elves. Haldir knew the following days and even weeks would be interesting to behold; an odd assortment of races living in the heart of Lothlorien, mingling with the fair race… yes, Haldir was certainly looking forward to this visit.

The walk through the woods was a silent one, with each member of the Fellowship marveling at the beauty of the forest. Yet none were so filled with joy and wonder as Legolas. He felt fresh and new, as though everything before the mines was part of another life. The songs of the forest had never felt so strong and lovely; even the feeling of the earth beneath his feet filled him with gladness. His previous anger at Aragorn's outburst was forgotten, and the grief he felt at Gandalf's fall was numbed, though not quite gone. This feeling of bliss increased tenfold when the group entered the great city of light, with its enormous trees and elaborate talans, all filled with elves.

All were relieved; they were safe, and would soon be in the presence of the Lady of Light. She would give them direction and a renewed sense of hope for the road ahead. Not to mention, thought each hobbit to himself, a soft bed and a warm meal or two.

A/N: Let me just say that I am very excited for the next chapter, because it makes me smile. I just thought I'd tell you that so you'll be full of anticipation for when I post again. Teeheehee.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Here it is! I hope this chapter makes you feel all warm and gooey inside, let me know what you think!

Also, there is very non-heterosexual romance in this chapter. If that is not your cup of tea, I suggest finding a new story to read. Thanks!

Ch. 6

Legolas was restless. The Fellowship's meeting with the Lord and Lady had not gone as well as expected, and everyone was feeling the exhaustion and grief of the past days. His mind was filled with the images of Gandalf's fall, the sound of Galadriel's words, and the continuous debate over his feelings for Aragorn. He had stayed with the fellowship the night before, listening to the elves' lament, but feeling too grieved to translate the song for the curious hobbits. It was all extremely overwhelming, and so, at first light, Legolas dressed in his warrior garb and took to the forest to find some solitude. Knowing he was too exhausted to run, the elf settled for simply walking amongst the trees. After some time, the sound of water reached his ears, reminding the elf that he desperately needed to bathe. Following the sound of the babbling water, Legolas came upon a clear and swift stream. It was obvious that this would not serve his purpose, so Legolas followed the current through the woods. It was not long before the steam widened, joining a deep, slow-moving river. It was a wonderful sight to behold, and Legolas could hardly wait to shed his travel-warn garb and indulge in some much-needed rest.

The water was cool and refreshing, and in moments Legolas felt his muscles relax after weeks of tension and use. He had every intention of cleaning the grime and dirt from his body and hair, but for now he was content to simply float in the water. The sun was warm on his body, and for the first time in many weeks, Legolas felt at peace. He was in a safe place, surrounded by trees and elves, yet still a shadow lingered. Gandalf was gone; the fact that he would never see the Istari again was finally sinking in. The wizard was well-respected in Mirkwood, and had become a close friend of the royal family. It was he who suggested that Legolas be sent to Rivendell for the council, instead of an older, more experienced representative. Legolas had long wanted to journey farther than his home and the surrounding areas, and Mithrandir had given him that chance. Looking back, it seemed to Legolas that Gandalf had known all along what would happen; that he would offer his bow to the fellowship. Perhaps he had also known of his own death, for the wizard could see many things that had yet to come. This thought was comforting for Legolas, in a small way. Gandalf would not have died in vain, and the repercussions of his act were still to be revealed.

Galadriel had said something similar to that when they met, and Legolas knew the Lady's words should be heeded. The encounter with the Lady of Light was also troubling, for she spoke to him in both words and thoughts. It was not the first time Legolas had encountered this in powerful elves, but her words disturbed him.

"_Legolas Greenleaf long under tree_

_In joy thou hast lived. Beware of the Sea!_

_If thou hearest the cry of the gull on the shore,_

_Thy heart shall rest in the forest no more._"

He could not understand those words, despite the fact that they repeated themselves continually in the back of the elf's mind. Though he did not wish to believe it, he could not help but think Galadriel was foretelling his death. Perhaps she was warning him so that he could prevent this from happening, but this made little sense to the elf as well. The Fellowship had no intention of going near the sea; they were to travel down the Anduin, but only as far as the Falls of Rauros, and to Mordor from there. But if his death was not to come on their journey, why would the Lady tell him of it now? He had tried to ask her, but she provided no answer.

Deciding that cryptic messages and prophesies were better left for another time, Legolas swam back to the shallow bank of the river. Most of the dirt had washed from him, but he took a few minutes to ensure that his hair, face, and body were completely clean. When this was done, Legolas retrieved his clothes from the bank and washed them as best he could. Laying those on the flat, smooth, riverbank rocks to dry in the sun, he took some time to explore the area. Legolas was rewarded for his explorations when he came across a bush of wild berries. He could not deny his hunger, as it was now close to midday, so he picked a handful of ripe berries and sat in the sun for a makeshift meal. It had been a long time since Legolas had tasted anything so fresh and delicious, and it put him in an immensely good mood. For the first time in quite a while, Legolas began to sing, not of grief and danger, but of hope and better times. His travel-worn clothes were not yet dry, giving Legolas the opportunity to enjoy the refreshing water once again.

This swim was not so pleasant; after only a few minutes, there was a noise in the forest. At first, Legolas assumed it was an animal of some sort, but he soon realized that no animal, or elf, would make so much noise. The creature was headed directly toward him and, not having time to do anything else, the elf dove under the water and swam to the very bottom of the deep pool. While holding to a rock to keep from floating, Legolas tried to formulate some sort of plan. His weapons were with his clothes, and though he could gain a fair head start by surfacing at the far bank of the river, he would have no chance if the creature could use a bow. With his lungs beginning to burn, Legolas decided his best chance was to surface under the low-hanging branches of a few trees on the far bank and get a look at his enemy before doing anything else. He was careful to make no noise as be broke the surface and took in a lungful of much-needed air.

What he saw on the other bank did nothing to calm his rapidly beating heart, however. There, sitting in the sun, with his head cocked to one side and an eyebrow raised, was Aragorn, looking as if he could barely contain his laughter. Legolas could not decide if he was enraged or relieved at the man's antics, and so he settled for an icy glare and a small smile. Aragorn, for his part, had given up trying to remain serious and allowed himself a hearty laugh.

"You know, Legolas," he commented when his laughter had subsided, "I'm not sure you've been properly trained as a warrior. There are usually better places to hide than under the water, and I'm fairly certain most enemies would realize that these clothes belong to someone. Or were you hoping to scare them with the prospect of a nude elf running rampant in the forest?"

"By the way the air smelled, I had assumed it was a troll coming toward me, not a human. I suppose I should have known better," Legolas managed to reply as he swam back across the river.

Aragorn tried to look offended, but he only succeeded in bursting out into laughter once more. This time, Legolas joined him, and the two enjoyed a few moments of light-heartedness. Upon reaching the bank, Legolas hesitated. Elves, he knew, were extremely comfortable with nudity. Aragorn, being raised by his race, felt the same way. But things seemed different now, and Legolas was not sure how to act. In the end, Legolas realized that he could not change himself for the sake of his feelings, and he certainly shouldn't shy away from Aragorn. With that thought in mind, the elf rose from the water and walked to the flat rocks Aragorn still sat on. He had formed an idea, and before Aragorn had a chance to say a word, Legolas had lifted the man from his seated position and tossed him lightly into the water. In the time it took Aragorn to return, sputtering and swearing, to the surface of the water, Legolas had donned his breeches and was sitting exactly where Aragorn had been; head cocked to the side, one eyebrow raised.

"You see Aragorn? You smell much better already. I suggest you take advantage of your current location, for I will not allow you back on land until I am satisfied that you are clean."

Legolas said all this with a look on his face that was both friendly and calm. Yet Aragorn knew that the elf would hold to his word, and that he truly had no hope of besting Legolas' strength. So, muttering under his breath, Aragorn proceeded to clean the grime of his travels from himself. As he scrubbed, Legolas redid the warrior braids in his hair, and the two shared with one another what they had done that morning. It seemed their days had been similar; both took to the forest to find solitude and to organize their thoughts. Aragorn had heard Legolas' song and, recognizing the voice, decided to find his friend. Eventually, Legolas deemed Aragorn as clean as he could become, and allowed him to climb out of the river and onto the sun-warmed rocks. The man shed the light shirt he wore and lay it to dry next to the elf's before stretching out on the stone next to Legolas. For a long time the two remained silent, simply enjoying one another's company and their peaceful surroundings. But after a time, Legolas' thoughts became too persistent, and he decided to voice them.

"Aragorn?"

"Hmmm?" The man replied, eyes still closed in contentment.

Releasing a breath, Legolas asked, "What happens to men when they die?"

This got Aragorn's attention, and he sat up. Looking at Legolas closely, he attempted to understand why his friend would ask him this, finally saying, "Legolas, if you're asking about Gandalf, I do not have an answer. I am not even sure he was ever a man, so-"

"Nay, Aragorn. I have made my peace with Gandalf's passing, and it is not what troubles me," with this, Legolas paused. After collecting his thoughts, he continued, "I have learned much over my lifetime, yet I do not know what will happen to you if you should fall. I will go to the Halls of Mandos, yet I am unsure if this will be your path as well. If we do not survive this journey, will I see you again, or will you be elsewhere for eternity?"

Aragorn was somewhat taken aback; this was not what he had expected Legolas to say. In fact, it was still unclear as to what the elf was saying at all. Was he worried they would not be together as friends and fellow warriors, or as something more? And why would the elf even ask such a thing? Had Gandalf's death affected him more than he realized, or did this question come from somewhere else? It didn't seem like Legolas to ask such a thing to begin with; the elf usually tried to avoid personal questions when at all possible. Then again, maybe he was attempting to find meaning in Legolas' words where there was none.

Not knowing what else to say, Aragorn replied, "Legolas, I'm not sure about you, but I plan on living for many more years. Besides, if I died now, who would you harass? All of your other friends smell like trees and flowers all the time."

Legolas smiled, appreciating his friend's lightheartedness, while still knowing that Aragorn had avoided his question. He was still unsure about the man; the moments they shared in Moria went beyond friendship, yet perhaps it was not meant to last outside the mines. Perhaps Aragorn had just done what he had to so that Legolas would get through, and had no desire for more. Was it worth the risk to find out? Was he willing to lose the friendship for even a chance at something more with Aragorn? Everything inside Legolas screamed for him to risk it, to take the step and see what would happen, but still he hesitated. In all the elf's long years, he had never been without confidence, even when it came to relationships. He knew of his own beauty, and found it easy to gain the company of another when he desired it, but Aragorn was unlike any of his previous companions. Legolas felt for this man on a deeper level, and more was at stake if something were to go wrong. The elf couldn't imagine life without the ranger, without his company and humor and strength. Yet, at the same time, he could no longer accept life half-lived, with the constant regret that comes from allowing an opportunity to slip away.

Aragorn's mind was blissfully blank while Legolas debated with himself. The elf looked more beautiful than Aragorn had ever seen him; wet strands of golden hair fell over his shoulders and back, and it was hard for the man to keep his eyes from Legolas' flawlessly smooth skin. His face was troubled and open, allowing Aragorn a rare glimpse at the elf's emotions. He seemed worried, or perhaps nervous; Legolas was clearly in turmoil over something, and Aragorn wished he understood what it was. He would do anything for Legolas, to ease any burden he may have, or to bring a smile to his lovely face. Really, Aragorn thought, he would do, say, or give anything within his power for the chance to touch that face. Then, before he could even think to stop himself, Aragorn had reached up and brushed one tanned knuckle along Legolas' jaw line. He would have been horrified by this act, if not for Legolas' reaction. Though completely unexpected, this was exactly what the elf wanted, and when it came he simply closed his eyes, leaning in to the man's touch. When Aragorn broke the contact, both let out a sigh of contentment. Legolas opened his eyes and looked to the man beside him, momentarily surprised at the intent expression on Aragorn's face. The man looked completely uncertain, though he was clearly bold enough to maintain eye contact. Legolas could not contain the joy he felt at Aragorn's simple action, smiling brightly at the man, who returned the sentiment. No longer harboring doubt about the rangers feelings, Legolas leaned toward Aragorn and placed a light, but meaningful, kiss on the man's soft lips. Before he could pull back, however, Aragorn closed the distance between them once more. This kiss had far more passion, but before it could be deepened, Legolas pulled away. Aragorn, worried that he had done something wrong, became extremely confused when he found the elf practically rolling on the ground with laughter.

"Does something amuse you, Legolas?" He asked, unsure if he should be offended or not.

"Nay, Aragorn! It's just… your beard." The elf replied, calming himself.

Confused, Aragorn asked, "What about my beard?"

"It tickles," Legolas said with a smile and a shrug. Aragorn could not believe his ears. This was obviously a side of Legolas he hadn't previously known, but Aragorn had never realized that the elf could be so endearingly lighthearted. With a mischievous grin, Aragorn wasted no time in leaning over the reclining elf and placing light kisses on his face and neck, making sure to allow his beard to brush lightly against the pale Elvin skin. Legolas, for his part, could hardly keep himself from screaming; he squirmed and gasped from the feeling of the scratchy facial hair.

"Aragorn! Please, it tickles!" he managed between bursts of laughter.

Aragorn stopped long enough to mutter, "I didn't realize Mirkwood's prince was so easily undone. I wish someone had told me sooner," before continuing his teasing ministrations on the elf. Finally, Legolas could take no more, and rolled the man so it was the elf on top. Aragorn could do nothing but grin up at the archer, who looked ready for revenge. Truthfully, Aragorn would happily accept any punishment Legolas chose for him… or so he thought.

Moving too fast for Aragorn to react, Legolas picked the man up, threw him over his shoulder, and began to walk toward the river. Aragorn managed to wrap his arms around the elf's torso, while spitting out any threats that came to mind and begging Legolas to keep from being thrown in again. Legolas, satisfied with the amount of groveling coming from the man, turned and placed the red-faced ranger back on the ground. He never would have expected things to go so well, but everything felt so natural when it came to Aragorn. The man stood before him now with a soft expression on his face, looking as if his thoughts mirrored Legolas'. They shared a smile and another soft kiss before moving back to their rocks in the sun. Both knew they would have to return shortly, for the fellowship would miss them after too much longer. Yet neither man nor elf was willing to leave the place, or each other's company, quite yet. Moving together, they settled on the grass at the forest edge. Legolas rested his head on Aragorn's chest, trying to commit to memory the feeling of the man's arms around him, and the sound of his beating heart. It was much faster than his own heartbeat, Legolas noticed, and he decided that he enjoyed the differences between Aragorn and himself immensely. And although Legolas had not forgotten the troubles which had plagued his thoughts earlier that day, he could not help but feel as though everything would be alright. It was not long before both man and elf had fallen into a deep, peaceful sleep by the lazy river.

Mmmmm, sweet delicious fluff! Remember, reviews fuel my imagination!


	7. Chapter 7

Hellllloooooo!!! I've been insanely busy with a wedding this week, but I managed to find a little spare time to get this chapter ready. It isn't much, but you do get to spend some quality time with the hobbits, so it is totally worth it. Enjoy!

Ch. 7

Aragorn awoke slowly; he was convinced everything had been a dream, and was terrified that he would open his eyes to find the Fellowship's campsite and no Legolas. Finally, however, the man realized that he was not alone on the grass. There was a warm, muscular body in his arms; the sound of the river filled his ears and the intoxicating smell of Legolas was all around him. He had never woken to a more pleasant situation in his long life. The man could not keep his mind off the elf who lay against him. His skin was so soft, and he could think of nothing other than becoming more closely acquainted with the strong, lean body. Everything about Legolas was enchanting; it was as if Aragorn was in his youth again, kissing for the first time. He had never actually been with another male before; he had already begun courting Arwen by the time he learned that it was an acceptable pairing. Even then, Aragorn hadn't considered it for himself, never knowing that he could feel so deeply for someone other than the Evenstar. The question Aragorn was avoiding, for the time being, was exactly what he felt for Legolas. If it were simple lust, or something close to it, then the two would certainly not be content to merely lay together, enjoying the others' company. Aragorn knew he could not avoid the question long, for he could not imagine toying with the emotions of either Arwen or Legolas. In fact, he was not even sure if Arwen was still in Middle Earth, or if she had heeded the advice of her father and sailed to the west. It would come down to a choice, yet at that moment in time Aragorn felt unable to even think on the possibility of leaving one for another, and so he allowed the matter to leave his mind for an entirely more appealing subject: Legolas.

Aragorn hadn't told Legolas his true reasons for coming into the forest that morning. The Lady Galadriel had come into the clearing where the fellowship was staying just a few hours after sunrise. Aragorn, having only slept until dawn, was sitting at the trunk of an enormous mallorn tree, watching over his companions and losing himself in thought. She made her way silently toward the man, who suddenly noticed the Lady's presence as she stood over him. Aragorn was embarrassed, not only because of his lack of attention, but because he was certain, based on Galadriel's smile, that she knew who occupied his thoughts.

"My Lady…" he had stammered, unable to think of anything else to say.

Galadriel smiled, amused at the man's nervousness. "Do not be ashamed of your thoughts, Estel, for they are not yours alone. There has been a change in you both, and while I believe there is a need for caution, I am also certain it can be discussed at a later time. Go to him, Estel, for he too needs a companion at this time."

"But Lady Galadriel, what will-"

"Nay, Estel," she interrupted knowingly. "I have no insight into what your future may hold, for many decisions still lay ahead of you, and they are yours to make. Do not seek answers from those around you, for they will all come from within." Noticing the look of unease on the man's face, she added, "Go find the prince, Estel. He may not hold the answers for you, but that does not mean he cannot help you find them for yourself."

With a kind smile and a nod, the Lady of Light turned and made her way back out of the clearing. Aragorn wasted no time in leaving, following the same path he saw Legolas take earlier that morning. He was lucky in his search; normally, Legolas would leave absolutely no trail to follow, but he felt safe in Lothlorien, and didn't take the care he normally would in treading softly. When the tracks suddenly disappeared from the path, Aragorn could only assume the elf had taken to the forest. Not knowing if Legolas climbed through the trees or walked on the ground, Aragorn became unsure if he would be able to find the archer. Then he heard it; a faint voice on the wind. Though it was almost too quiet to make out, Aragorn knew the voice's owner without a doubt. Thanking the Valar for his fortune, the man began to make his way through the woods, following the beautiful tenor voice as it grew louder. By the time the song stopped, Aragorn could hear the sound of water, and knew that Legolas would assume there was an enemy approaching. When he came upon the riverbank, with the elf's clothes lying in the sun and the water still rippling unnaturally, Aragorn knew exactly where Legolas was hiding, and exactly what to do when he came up for air.

The recent memory was enough to put a smile on the man's face as he trailed a hand lazily over Legolas' silky hair. But as much as Aragorn wanted to, he could not neglect his duty toward the rest of the fellowship, who would be wondering at their absence. Still, he felt terrible having to disturb the comfort of his Elvin companion, who had hardly made a sound or a movement since they laid down. Aragorn released a long sigh, but before he could do or say anything, Legolas spoke up.

"I know. We need to get back to the others, for they will grow concerned at our absence before long. I think it best that we leave out the details of our day, for our companions have enough on their minds at the moment. Unless you wish to tell them, that is."

Aragorn smiled at Legolas' uncanny ability to know what he was thinking. It was true, he did not wish for the others to know about their time together, at least until Aragorn knew for himself what he felt for the elf. Placing a grateful kiss on the golden head, the man sat up with a groan. Besides, Aragorn thought to himself, he was not ready to share anything when it came to Legolas. The secrecy had a certain appeal to it.

Legolas stood and moved to his now dry clothes. He allowed himself another look at the man still sitting in the grass, while stretching his much-relaxed muscles. The day had turned out much better than Legolas could have ever hoped; he had kissed, and had been kissed, by Aragorn. The thought alone brought a smile to the Elvin lips, and while Legolas still held doubts about the nature of their relationship, he was willing to take what he could.

When both man and elf were dressed, they stood in silence for another moment or two. Finally, Legolas turned to lead the way back toward the heart of Lothlorien. He hadn't taken two steps before Aragorn pulled him back for a deep, slow kiss. Each enjoyed the unique taste and gentle explorations of the other, until the need to breathe became too great and they were forced to part. Legolas had to admit, Aragorn had skill in the art of kissing. He knew it would be difficult to restrain himself while they were with the rest of the fellowship, for the man's mere presence robbed him of all sense. It took Legolas a moment to realize that Aragorn was watching him with a very familiar grin on his face. Before he could ask the man what mischief he was up to, Aragorn turned and bolted into the woods, calling some sort of challenge behind him. Legolas chuckled at the unusual behavior of the man, took a last look at the calm river and surrounding glade, and leapt lightly into the nearest tree.

Not ten minutes later, Aragorn came tearing into the fellowship's clearing, startling Gimli enough to fill the air with dwarvish curses. The man's rapid, shallow breaths nearly stopped altogether when, sitting by the hobbits, Legolas called to him.

"Aragorn, I feared you had lost your way. Come, sit down and take some rest, it will do you some good."

He should have known that he didn't have a chance against the elf, though the smile on Legolas' face made the attempt worth his while. Sitting down with the group, Aragorn accepted a flask of water from Pippin before glancing back to the victorious elf. Although the smile was gone, the light of merriment still lingered in Legolas' eyes, which were brighter and gentler than they had been in days. Not wishing for the others to notice a difference in the pair, Aragorn forced his eyes to refocus on Merry, who was retelling the events of their day, which had contained adventures of their own. The four Hobbits had decided to go exploring the great woodland city, and managed to not only become lost amongst the innumerable trees and talans, but were found by none other than the Galadhrim. Luckily, even the warriors of Lothlorien had a soft spot when it came to the lighthearted hobbits, and the small group spent their afternoon learning of the traditions and rich history of the forest kingdom in the presence of the elves.

It was the first time in many weeks that the group of friends found themselves able to relax and enjoy one another's company without fear or caution. There was still an air of sadness about the group, one which would linger for a long time in the hearts of the walkers. Even so, the hobbits, men, dwarf, and elf spent the evening laughing, telling tales, and strengthening their bond, which had grown strained as late. After the hobbits had finished retelling their afternoon adventures, Gimli and Boromir took turns telling the others of their homelands, and the battles they had seen, and the places they had been. It was late when the man and dwarf quieted, but the hobbits were still eager to hear more stories of adventure.

Merry turned expectantly to Legolas, saying "Come now Legolas, you must have quite a few good tales to tell, seeing how you're older than the rest of us put together and all."

"I will not deny that I have seen many things in my lifetime," Legolas replied, " but after everything Gimli and Boromir have shared, I fear my tales of giant spiders and age-old battles will be quite dull." Seeing the looks of excitement and expectation on the faces of his companions, the elf continued speaking. "There is one story that I believe you will rather enjoy hearing, however. It is about a young man and a foolish elf. Perhaps you will recognize the characters."

Aragorn groaned loudly, which only caused Legolas' grin to widen.

"You mean to say this story, it's about you and Strider?"

"Aye Sam, it is. It was Aragorn's first visit to my homeland, though we had become friends perhaps a decade earlier during a trip my family had taken to visit the house of Elrond. We were both still young by the standards of our respective races, trained to be warriors but without the experience that comes with age. But, like any young male, we believed ourselves to be invincible and fully capable of caring for ourselves. I had never left the safety of our palace caves and the surrounding forest without an escort, and Aragorn craved adventure like it was air. So, convincing our families I wished to show him the surrounding woods, Aragorn and I set out with the intention of exploring the very heart of Mirkwood."

"If I recall correctly, it was you who convinced me to go on this adventure. I believe you mentioned something about having explored every part of Mirkwood a thousand times." Aragorn interrupted jokingly.

"Yes, well, I wouldn't expect your mortal memory to be able to recollect things perfectly," Legolas countered with a sly smile. "As I was saying, Aragorn and I went into the deep forest together, with nothing but water and our weapons. We had walked until midday, when I sensed something amiss."

"Perhaps I should take over the telling of this tale, Master Elf." Aragorn turned to the amused listeners and continued; "Around midday, Legolas and I were exploring a cave we had happened upon. Neither of us were paying much attention to the woods around the rocks, and while we were in the cave a colony of giant spiders picked up our scent. Legolas had forgotten to mention to me that giant spiders dwelled in the forest, and you can imagine my surprise at seeing them as I climbed out of the rocks."

"Well yes, I will admit that I should have warned you about their presence in the forest beforehand, but you cannot deny that it made for a good story," Legolas added.

"Keep going," Pippin quipped. "What happened? Did the spiders attacked? Were you fatally injured?"

Merry shook his head, "If the attack was fatal, they wouldn't be here, now would they, Pip?"

"Anyway," Aragorn said, trying to keep the hobbits from an impending scuffle, "we only had two choices; we could try and fight the spiders, or hide in the cave and hope they went away. Realizing that we were not as courageous as we thought, we turned and fled into the cave. The spiders tried to reach us, but the space was too tight for them. After perhaps an hour, it seemed that the beasts had given up and left."

"Actually, after an hour you could no longer sit still and ignored my warnings that the spiders could be hiding in the trees." Legolas muttered, pretending to be upset. "So naturally, Aragorn dashed out into the open, and the spiders attacked. There were perhaps six of them, and he was surrounded. They had forgotten that I was still in the cave, which gave us only the slightest advantage. I attacked from the rear and Aragorn did what he could from the center. All the while I shouted tips to him, since he had never fought the spiders before this. It would be a lie to say that I was confident; I was not expecting to live through the fight. Spiders are vicious and unpredictable; all they desire is fresh meat, and they're smart enough to work together. When I reached Aragorn, two spiders lay dead, I had a cut arm, and he had a gash in his side. We fought until I believed I would simply collapse from exhaustion, but finally the last spider lay dead. We survived more out of luck than true skill, and it was nothing short of a miracle that nothing else attacked us as we traveled back. Night had fallen by the time we arrived at the palace, and my father had prepared a search party. Somehow we managed to avoid punishment, but I believe that was only due to the fact that Aragorn fainted upon our return."

"Now see here elf! I had been bleeding for a long time, and I passed out. There was no swooning or fainting involved! And you said no punishment? Do you mean to say that you cleaned the horse stables for the next few weeks out of pleasure? I think not. The only truth of that tale is our sheer luck in escaping the forest alive." Aragorn shouted, half laughing while trying to remain serious. The two locked gazes for a long moment, communicating with one another far more than they could with words. Luckily, the other members of the Fellowship were laughing and talking to one another about the amusing tale, and paid no heed to the pair.

When the friends had settled down once again, Frodo's enormous yawn reminded them all of their weariness from the day. One by one, the companions rose from the circle and made their way to their beds, leaving a man and elf alone in the clearing.


End file.
